MEADE 


PS 3513 
. A756 
T7 
1923 
Copy 2 


/j , 

t.:,; 


■f 



T ") T 





, 

\ 

j 

' J' 



fi/l 

i 

tv. - ^ ' 

!L « 

i/ ?( 

T< : 


T 

i'L J 

n J 


a, T" Jr u 

JL J 

1 

J 


/. ] IT) rrrirfm i*ryf<'%Av 

■ ^ ^ Jr T. /.}: ,<}i V T J jf J J, <|/|^ 

' ■ ' * (' . '< 





































THE TRIUMPH 

and OTHER POEMS 






4 




















■ 







, 


















































































































... 































The Triumph 

and OTHER POEMS 



w 

Author of “The False Star” 


V 


1923 

PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR 


~P$35 )3 

^23 

Gof^ s 


Copyright 1923 

By 

Abram Dale Gash « 


Additional copies of "The 
Triumph and Other Poems ,J 
may he ordered from the 
author, Ahram Dale Gash, 
118 North La Salle Street, 
Chicago, Illinois. 

Price One Dollar per copy. 


OEi; 20 1923 ^ 

©Cl A 7 71737 


'Us 








CONTENTS 


111 miimmmmiir in 

The Triumph ----- 9 

Niagara - - - - - - 43 

Fond Memories - 45 

The Patriot’s Scythe - - - - 47 

The Stream of Life - - - - 51 

The Duration of Love - - - - 53 

The Children ----- 54 

Don’t - - - - 56 

An Auto Ride - - - - 57 

Bringing Home the Cows - - - 59 

Stung ------ 61 

The End of the Lane - - - - 62 

Columbia’s Mission 63 

Justice.- 64 

The Aviation Age - 69 

Onward to Earth’s Army - - - 70 














































«• • 

*'-• 


•• ; .• 
























































i . m 

i 




i 






























' > * • 





























• . . . . • . . , 

. r . . 

*• 

. 

at 


































• .. 
















" 























* 

' 


















> SI 




- 








3 












‘ «• 




























- 






A* 




i * 
* 
















































' 


’• I 

. 















Oh! let me heave an ocean of sweet peace 
Into the clouds that they may rain a flood 
Of essence that will cause mankind to cease 
The awful curse of shedding human blood. 




























■1 ' 










* 


























■ 

. 






The Triumph 


I'd the 


cause of humanity this poem is 


dedicated. The Author 


Preface 

The spread of knowledge came with printer’s ink; 
Since then wise thinkers read what others think; 
Thus age on age adds to the growing scroll 
That rectifies the blunders of the soul. 

The fount of knowledge none can corner here 
Nor can we usurp its clear atmosphere; 

Each may partake of that delightful flood 
That flows unceasing from Creation’s God. 

As small electrons make the drive wheels fly 
By which great palaces rush swiftly by; 

Or speeding automobiles spin along, 

Without the fag of steed to stay the throng 
When car on car sweep onward like the wind, 
To serve the purpose of some happy end, 

So Wisdom’s forces striking thick and fast 
Against wrong methods make the errors blast, 

It lends the light to all that they may know 
The world is better for each heavy blow. 

With diffidence I enter that bright field 
Where each must make his ideas his shield 
Against the whims of every critic’s ire— 

The crucible whose purifying fire 

Melts all the rubbish from the books we have 

Determining the writings that may live. 

If my poetic shield shall stand the test 
I pray that mortals from it may be blest 
This is the only pay my heart can ask 
For undertaking the inviting task. 


The Author. 


10 


THE TRIUMPH 


Book I. 

Of Peace and her transcendent, happy state 
O let me sing! Alas! the world of late 
Seems quite dethroned of her benignant charm 
As nations vie to do each other harm! 

Our countries are frail creatures firmly bound 
To aid each other where they may be found ; 
The greatest boon for each all wisdom knows 
Is bringing war to an unending close; 

This triumph for the human race is found 
When all states on the earth will so be bound. 
Sweet as the rose that blushes on the lawn, 
Bright as the first rays that awake the dawn, 

Is that fond hope that war will come to end 
When every state to every state is friend. 

The monster Mars attracts the race of man 
And moulds its members to his heartless plan! 
Search out O Muse! wherein the trouble lies 
And make it plain as stars that deck the skies 
That men of acumen may understand 
The means to bind the monster foot and hand! 
Soar to the top of Heaven’s lofty dome 
And rake the bottom of old Satan’s home 
To learn the naked truth and learning know 
The means to bring to end this gruesome woe. 

The globe sails over her extensive bounds 
Bestowing products from her fertile grounds 
Yet on the sphere some rulers seem to find 
Sweet solace in destroying human kind. 

Life is the purpose of earth’s fruitful soil; 

Joy is the object of her constant toil; 

Her weighty mass whirls through the vast inane 
With lofty heights where mortals may attain 
The heart’s desire along the avenue 
That glorifies the whole celestial view 
Where stars and satellites long since have run 
To blaze the way for her resplendent sun; 
Unfading beauties shine where angels stood 
While yet they animated human blood; 

A stern dependence is the lot of all 
Who gather Heaven’s favors as they fall; 

Their constant needs forever are awake 
Till Death’s cold majesty shall overtake 




THE TRIUMPH 


11 


The multitudes who rush along the line 
Where danger raises her pernicious sign. 

As Peace for mortals was for pleasure born 
So Strife came forth to make mankind forlorn; 

Thus man encumbered by a fiendish spell 
Seeks to eradicate this curse of Hell 
That he may dwell on an exalted plane 
And with the angels chant the glad refrain 
That tones the air for every orb that flies 
Throughout the regions of the spacious skies. 

For parley met the three on life’s green field— 

Peace robed in love, Strife wore Hate’s garb and shield, 
Man’s form was groomed one half in misery 
The other clad in bright felicity; 

Low hung his head till Peace and Strife had spoke 
Then on the air his oratory broke 
In eloquence to make the nations sing 
When wiser councils better methods bring. 

Addressing Strife, Peace brightened as she smiled 
Like some fond mother speaking to her child; 

Bold Strife came forth as if he owned the throne 
Where wrong must quail and sinners must atone. 

“Why do you wear that raiment?” asks the Queen, 
As Strife came blustering upon the scene: 

“Pray join my ranks; discard that coat of mail 
Relieve the world of Lucifer’s entail; 

You need no shield to bask in my delight 
Nor will you ever have a cause to fight; 

My diplomats are Honor, Truth and Love; 

I represent the throne of God above.” 

“Ah! gentle spirit (Strife sighs in reply) 

If I should cease to fight I’d surely die! 

War is my business! Death shall always be 
The state that follows quickly my decree! 

I dip my quill in seas of human blood 

Then write the scroll of those who spill the flood! 

The streams of gore that run the rushing wheels 
Of huge war engines justify mv deals. 

I like vituperation! Feast on hate! 

To draw and quarter men makes me elate! 

Destruction is my purpose in each deed! 

Damnation forms the bulwark of my creed! 

Some scamps possess my vicious, vaunting traits 
Who rule the destinies of earthly states; 



12 


THE TRIUMPH 


I urge them on till in the jaws of woe 
Your charming hosts are forced to fight or go! 

I garner then the harvest I have sown 
When clash of arms make all creation groan. 
Christ’s lofty teachings would my cause most hurt, 
If mortals would not to my wiles advert. 

Some alleged Christians take me by the arm 
To do his righteous cause undying harm; 

I tempt them into doing my fierce will 
Since ‘Peace on Earth’ would my vocation kill. 
When such imps guide the destinies of church 
I on their shoulders, in my glory perch. 

I train the sluttish of the underworld 
To keep their gaudy banners all unfurled; 

I snare the foolish as they rush along 
Beneath the ogle of my servile throng. 

The anarchistic gales I start to blow 
Because the anarchists all please me so; 

While sticks and stones and cans and bottles fly 
I make their yelling sounds vibrate the sky; 

I teach deception for deception’s sake; 

I cultivate the favor of the rake; 

A fiend to me is just the kind of friend 
To serve the purpose of my hellish end. 

Don’t harp to me about your ‘Dove,’ O Peace! 

I much prefer the favor of the geese 
Who guzzle, gobble, gabble all the while, 

While anxious their own loved ones to revile! 
Some whine or whimper from the lack of health 
Who oft have followed me in quest of wealth. 

I fire the eyes, the cheeks, the gaudy nose; 

I amble in the path where murder goes! 

Most pleased am I with sprites like Beelsebub; 

I hate the prudish, as I good men dub. 

I ravish virtue in her sacred shrine, 

Because fool weaklings say she is divine! 

Fi, fi, for shame on virtue as a theme, 

It is a silly iridescent dream 
Made for old maids and bachelors to dwell 
Upon; such sterile creatures cannot tell 
Of the divorce mills that I bring to bear 
On wedded flirts who cultivate despair! 

Old Sakawauwin wedded for a day 
To prove how I such giddy people sway. 

For Menelaus, when Paris steals his joy, 



THE TRIUMPH 


13 


The Greeks and Trojans fought the siege of Troy; 
Fair Helen views the scenes with beaming eyes 
As though her lack of virtue she denies; 

My sweetest memories begin to play 
When I review that classic tragedy 
Where gods and goddesses with mortals vied 
To perform acts that yield me greatest pride; 

I kept Narcissus gazing in the brook, 

At his own shadow, till his life he took; 

Because he could not kiss the dainty thing 
A tomb he finds deep in the purling spring; 

All monuments erected to his life 

Show how he longs the phantom as his wife. 

Had I a spirit maid as vile as I 
I’d marry her and populate the sky, 

With devils that would wreck the universe 
Thus all its mighty engines I’d reverse; 

Yet I believe that single cussedness 
Is better far than wedded blessedness. 

I laugh at crime! invite the foulest shame— 

Since shame blends perfect with my ruthless name, 

I am the opposite to your kind hand; 

I rule the roost in every cuckoo land; 

A cuckoo is an echo at the feet 
Of those who keep the doors to my retreat 
Where gold is worshipped as life’s dearest thing, 
For gold my warbling songsters gladly sing.” 

“You sweep the globe with an unhindered sway; 
Do you expect to always have your way? 

The great millennium will stop your play.” 

She sweetly said. “I’ve ever had my say 
In Man’s affairs! I exclude Heaven’s cheer 
From everything affecting beings here! 

Nor do I fear the fanning of your wings 
Can cool the heat of my vindictive springs. 

In every field of action I am there, 

To spread the havoc of Death’s dark despair! 

When war clouds rise I send my diplomats 
To scream around the world like squalling cats 
When fur is flying from their smarting backs 
Where claws have left the imprint of my tracks. 
Millennium ? Ha! how you make me laugh! 

These earthly fools can ne’er reach that by half! 

Before that day I’ll make Man’s clotted gore 

Rise like huge mountains on some rock bound shore. 



14 


THE TRIUMPH 


I’ll send hot blazes through my bugle horn 
To rouse the imps who make the world forlorn. 

A riot with its tumult and its gore 

Gives me a taste that calls for more and more, 

Of that red liquid that flows through the veins 
Of those who let excitement heat their brains; 

Like some wine bibber who cannot refrain 
From long imbibing till his feeble brain 
Is tossed upon the waves of that bleak shore 
Where he lamenting wails: ‘some more! some more!’ 
So with my yearning, O abiding Peace! 

My craving for more blood can never cease! 

When Man’s great war fleets clash upon the seas 
They’ll make Hell’s fire seem like a chilly breeze 
Beside the bursting shells and cannon’s roar 
That will distract the seas from shore to shore. 
Man’s airships and his subtle submarines 
Shall multiply the havoc of the scenes. 

Vile noxious gasses from the hand grenade 
Will hurl vast numbers to the realms of shade. 
Infernal blasts with their terrific sights 
In sheets of fire shall glad my wild delights. 

I’ll hamstring Europe! gut the Dardanelles! 

I’ll make all nations have their raving spells! 

Two thousand miles their armies shall then be 
Stretched o’er the lands while navies split the sea; 

As fights above and fights beneath the wave 
Detone the hellishness of morbid crave. 

Ten million men the armies shall embrace 
To crown the viciousness of war’s disgrace. 

Man’s heart shall bleed because I will it so; 

His hapless hordes shall drink the dregs of woe; 

The mollycoddles of his race will be 
The drones who dare not cast their lots with me 
Or ministers who preach from day to day 
About some solace in the far away; 

Such dullards I will hang up by the heels 
To let them know how harsh damnation feels.” 
Observes the scion of unceasing hate. 

The maid replies: “Oh sir! be more sedate. 

Let me admonish you for Heaven’s love 
To act so gentle that I can approve. 

I live on love! forgiveness is my pride! 

With Wisdom’s methods I am here allied. 

I sow the seed of unremitting love; 



THE TRIUMPH 


15 


They are transported from the throne above 
By spirits who surround the mighty globe 
To clothe it with a sympathetic robe; 

Its saving graces find a lodgment when 
Such fond desires inspire exalted men. 

This virtue is the glory of delight; 

Its vivid stars illume the darkest night; 

Because of it God’s angels are as sweet 
As any babe that earthly eyes doth greet; 

When in its bliss an ardent creature stands 
He holds the urn of gladness in his hands, 

Love fills this urn to its exalted brim 
In its soft overflow true lovers swim; 

In it good mothers bathe their young offspring, 
While caring for them tenderly they sing 
The lullaby that soothes the infant line 
Till all affirm such mothers are divine. 

“The love in man is of surpassing worth! 

It curbs the rant and venom of the earth! 

Like sunlight streaming from the azure sky 
Love’s yield is shown in every joyous eye, 

Love builds all homes where happy children play 
Where tenderness and mercy have their way, 
Church spires arise whence in the matin dawn 
Clear chiming bells ring on and on and on 
Till men and angels join in one vast throng 
To help the universal cause along; 

When its saints quit the vital atmosphere 
Their spirits find a state of endless cheer. 

In the celestial garden spirits find 
A state that satisfies the longing mind. 

“Like Rosebud standing in the falling snow 
Beams on his mate and sighs: T love you so! 

But must I lose you in this fluffy tide 

Then stand its torrent without my fair bride?’ 

She lifts her eyes, her lips becoming pale, 

Her life goes out as all her senses fail! 

He bows his head ! his tears freeze in the snow! 
He holds her hand till he is forced to go! 

Their spirits saunter hence yet hand in hand 
Until at last they reach the promised land 
Where they abide forever as they sing 
Their young to life with every budding spring. 

“In this broad universe is ample room 
For love to overcome all passing gloom, 




16 


THE TRIUMPH 


Low in the tomb flesh tenements must lie 
While far away their airy spirits fly 
In search of that clear fount of living love 
Before the mercy seat of God above. 

“Hate leads its victims o’er life’s harshest path! 
Hate stirs the venom of inhuman wrath! 

Hate makes the bravest shy of their own kind! 

Hate locks the movement of the yielding mind! 
When men permit hate’s tattlers to begin 
Their prating tongues have spinning yarns to spin 
Such as the foolish drone when they forget 
And tell outlandish tales to their regret, 

Like gossipers who spread the lies they hear 
About some victim’s dubious career 
Till she is driven to the depths of woe 
And takes her life with a pathetic blow. 

The tongue may stain or keep the conscience clean! 
Wrong stories always clutter up the scene! 

Some characters immortal eyes have seen 
Upon the weakest staff too often lean. 

A slanderer speaks in a suppressed tone 
That his sad victims may the louder groan! 

In praise of mortals the high minded sing 
As cheerful as the tones that tinkling ring 
To cheer the soft vibrations that surround 
The continents that mighty oceans bound. 
Destroy your bloody weapons, let us give 
To men exceeding joy that they may live 
On this fair globe where they must join at last 
To make your harshness sleep long in the past. 

In every land where gore has dyed the ground 
And battles rang with Hell’s terrific sound 
Your voice was heard; while mine was kept afar 
You hissed the dogs of unrelenting war! 

With flaming gasses and obnoxious fumes 
Inferno’s darkest methods Man assumes! 

These deeds that wring the hearts of men must be 
Sunk in the changeless, elemental sea 
That moves along with such vivacious grace 
That none can rave who feel its soft embrace; 
Sweet comfort comes to those who heed the will 
Of Him who while men sleep is reigning still.” 

“What think you maid would be my aimless task 
Should I seek in your soothing smiles to bask? 



THE TRIUMPH 


17 


You seem to think the summer breeze should be 
The element controlling you and me. 

That flower gardens and song birds should charm 
My wild delights from plotting mortals harm, 

This dunce bewildered by our parley here 
Would lose the trait his numbskulls hold most dear. 
Illume his soul then I will try to be 
As calm as any cut-throat you will see. 

Before I die I’ll scuttle every ship 
That I can by dark means get on the hip! 

Some Kings, like me, think filching piracy 
Comports with their sedate sobriety; 

I think so too thus by my abstract force 
I drive them into war’s destructive course. 

All progress springs from anger’s fretful state! 
Ambition is the pride of lofty hate! 

Great courage springs at Fury’s quick command ; 

It serves the aim of a destructive hand. 

I rattle every brain that I can stir! 

I deprive mortals of immortal cheer! 

The imps who kill all reach my flaming goal— 

A goal prepared to sear the human soul. 

Hark back to Mountain Meadow guided by 
A saintly crew who claimed the earth and sky, 

They massacre six score and ten and two 
As harmless emigrants as ever grew; 

Think you I had no part in that harsh play? 

I act my part wherever beings slay! 

On St. Bartholemew’s unhallowed eve, 

The holy men kill as my hands receive 
The blood of thousands in my dripping pan 
Made for my use by Satan’s artful clan. 

Next heed the wails of fair Joan of Arc 
When her own church-men ply the fiery spark 
That starts the blaze beneath her graceful form, 
She they consume to keep my courage warm; 

And many other scenes I could relate 
Of alleged Christians aping Satan’s hate. 

O, I’m a saint beside some priest-hoods, maid! 

I tell just what I am—I’m unafraid; 

I tear the mask from my destructive face 
And do the same with people’s time and place. 

The night shades cannot cover up my dreams 
I always turn dreams into bloody streams. 

At Herrin and a million other frays 



18 


THE TRIUMPH 


I passed the torch that lit each angry blaze. 

Old human nature often bubbles o’er 
By saints and sinners on this mundane shore; 
Whoever aids me in my chosen vein 
I make torch bearers in my noisy fane. 

“One thing I have been loath to speak about; 

Lest you believe my eloquence aspout; 

When Satan and his vast rebellious horde 
Against Jehovah drew the flaming sword 
I urged, with might, the whole infernal crew 
To wreck high heaven and then banish you; 

But when the fight had grown to such a fright, 

To God’s high throne vile Satan claimed the right, 

The Supreme being waved his august hand 
And swept his opposition from his land. 

Down to the fiery gulf base Satan fell 
With all his imps to the most dismal cell, 

With sulphur flames that ever shall remain 
To torture those becoming so profane. 

For ages, even Satan scarce survives 
The direful shock that left him just alive; 

Then I revived him with fair Eden’s light 
Where mortals became subject to his blight; 

I urged him on to seek their souls to win 
By leading them into the paths of sin; 

Tt will annoy the ever-living God 
More than your having plied the flaming sword’. 

I screamed these words with all my might and main 
Then shook him as I shouted them again. 

When up he rose and quick to Eden flew 
Resolved the favored race he would pursue; 

A serpent’s form he there assumes, indeed 
With Adam’s mate he straightway makes great speed; 
He takes the lovely creature unawares 
She eats the fruit then to her spouse declares 
“It is the best our orchard ever bore!” 

He eats, when their eyes ope as ne’er before; 

The Lord regrets the thing that had been done 
Denounces Satan for his conquest won; 

From Eden then he drives the couple hence 
But Satan makes their sin a huge expense; 

Thus God was forced to sacrifice his son 
For every soul to Heaven must be won; 

His saving grace, however, is the thing 
To bring them all to where the angels sing. 




THE TRIUMPH 


19 


He is the one of all the earth and skies 
To win my heart and curb my wild desires; 

But I must haste to sound some war alarms 
Lest I now yield to your bewitching charms; 

Adieu, fair maid! When Man heeds Christ’s kind word 
Then I will sheath and yield to you my sword.” 

Quoth Strife; he then withdrawing from the scene 
Leaves Man the keen observer with the queen. 


Book II. 

Man realizes should he dwell in peace 
He must disarm to give the world a lease 
Of happiness that always will abound 
Where mildness glorifies the blameless ground. 
The sun is blameless for our troubles here; 

The moon shines through a blameless atmosphere; 
The asteroids all race in gay delights 
Unmindful of and blameless for our fights; 

All nature blends in Gravitation’s hold— 

A billion globes make up its blameless fold. 

Man bending low asks: “O celestial Queen! 
What can I do to change my fierce demean? 

My nations seem enthralled with hot desire 
To hedge each other round with steel and fire 
My hosts are burdened with heart-rending grief 
From this long bent I cannot find relief; 

So firmly bound I am in honor’s course 
I fight else drink the dregs of sad remorse; 
Remorse comes swift when some insulting glance 
Calls for the cannon, rifle, sword or lance, 

If the insulted does not quick apply 
The force that starts a flood, from every eye! 
Since first I saw the beaming light of day 
In Eden’s bowers long since far away 
So many ardent hopes have gone awry, 

Beneath the blue of Heaven’s arching sky, 

That Confidence is slow to make a date 
Behind the swing of the inviting gate; 

Old disappointment seems to slyly lurk 
Where he can stay the glory of our work; 

Yet still, ah, still! frail mortals must be brave 
To stem the tide of each opposing wave. 



20 


THE TRIUMPH 


Waves meet us on life’s ever restless sea 
Where all potential beings like to be. 

The victories of life are never won 
By those who yield before the fight is done; 

The greatest triumphs oft design to come 
Just as we fly to our eternal home. 

Instructions from your grace I stand in need; 

The world is full of selfishness and greed; 

The despot powers of the Devil’s race 
Vie with their wiles to usurp my embrace.” 

The modest spirit tossed her pretty head; 

In sweet expressions she replying said: 

“Forgiveness gladdens all on land and seas 
Much like the calm that tames the gentle breeze 
Behind the storm when rainbow colors lend 
Their gorgeous hues where late the lightnings send 
Their forceful messengers across the sky 
Unmindful of the trembling passers-by. 

“Like some sweet lily whose angelic lips 
Hath nectar for her demigod who sips 
The honey while he breathes the sweet perfume, 

That rises from the petals of the bloom, 

So with the glory of exceeding grace 
When kind Forgiveness clears up some disgrace ; 
Alas! Ah, me! fiends sometimes spoil the source— 
The crystal fountain whence the honeys course. 

Their victims sob like Virtue’s angel said: 

“’Ere this foul deed I never suffered dread! 

Pray take my life! I do not care to live! 

Since I have suffered wrongs I can’t forgive! 

In this bedroom I never stayed alone. 

Till this sad night when I am made to groan! 

To each poor prisoner I’ve been so kind 
That fear of them was far from my frail mind; 

You sir I’ve aided much beyond the rest 

But now you wring this anguish from my breast! 

My manly husband cannot love me more! 

My bark must founder on this fleeting shore! 

No ray of hope is left! You hold me fast! 

Pray make my life at once a dismal past! 

This ravishment is more than I can bear! 

All that is left is smothered in despair!” 

The villain struck her on her pretty head 
When lo! the charming spirit left her dead.” 



THE TRIUMPH 


21 


Man thus propounds this question to the dove: 
“Should such base fiends receive forgiving love— 
Can he who robs the lily of its sweet 
Receive a harp from Heaven’s mercy seat 
Then chant hosannas with the angel throng 
Ere he repents for such malignant wrong?” 

The spirit of delight makes this reply 
As from her breast she heaves an anxious sigh; 

“The negative cries out in answer sir! 

The sequence of vile actions is despair! 

From the high plane that worthy men revere 
Men drop into a state devoid of cheer 
If by misdeeds the standard of the race 
Is lowered by the stain of foul disgrace. 

“On this great theme let us philosophize; 

A lofty courage never stultifies, 

It follows those true methods that we find 
Made perfect by Perfection’s patient mind. 

Don’t crucify a being on words told; 

Such crosses are unseemly to behold. 

Vile stories cannot bring you any good 
But may destroy a peaceful neighborhood; 

A crucifixion rests upon a soul 

Who with base slander plays a malign roll. 

Dense ignorance controls a perverse brain 
That lets a flood of poison through it strain. 
Derision’s cruel breath doth oft derange 
An ardent trust to make good friends estrange. 
It never has nor can it ever be 
A blessing to destroy another’s glee, 

When that destruction comes from any flame 
Intended to pollute a being’s name. 

It finds its level in the putrid dell 
Where the accursed of every age did dwell. 
Falsehoods return to wring the author’s heart 
Who started out to play a dastard’s part. 

An untruth fails because it is a lie 
But truth illumines all beneath the sky. 

Truth’s salutations gladden as they go 
Like rushing waters ripple as they flow. 

There is no mind so vulgar or so mean 
That it from slander’s crop can solace glean; 

Nor can a soul find comfort when it draws 
The blood of others in a greedy cause. 



22 


THE TRIUMPH 


The birds on pinions fly, men fly machines, 

But slanderers fly on inflated spleens; 

They wear a raiment such as Satan wore 
When he and his were hurled from Heaven’s shore. 
Why should men filch the fruits of honest fame 
Or steal the garments of a worthy name? 

An adulation hanging like a thorn 
On some sly creature’s sharp, sarcastic horn 
Is like a dagger driven through the heart 
Or deadly poison on a crimson dart; 

If envy be the stone that whets the blade 
Its victims often find the realms of shade. 

A melancholy hue o’ercast the sphere 
When envy’s scullions froze its atmosphere. 

Like Boreas who scuds his icy air 
Doth scatter devastation and despair 
Throughout the verdure of old mother earth, 

But freshly robed in springtime’s vernal birth, 

So with base envy when it fills a soul 
It leaves the print of Hatred’s direful scroll. 
Pathetic are the souls who run away 
In Envy’s shoes; they lead all to dismay. 

When Hatred came with Satan’s sable bow 
His piercing arrows caused red streams to flow 
On raging fields where heroes bite the dust 
To satiate some ruler’s vulgar lust. 

Unhappy state when nations in this vale 
Spend blood and treasure to make others quail 
Before the chieftains who must rise or fall 
Anent the ramparts of some fortress wall. 

The wars for liberty were justified 
But wars for conquest are base homicide. 

“The law affirms that private deeds are wrong 
When they disturb the quiet of the throng; 

But when great nations gamble on the thread 
Of life until they fill the world with dread 
Their hosts declare: AVe know that it is right 
For us to make the clash a bloody fight.’ 

“We pity those who seem to thrive on rant; 

We grieve for those who say: T would but can’t 
Be decent, because decency is great;’ 

Men’s greatness is the glory of the state! 

“A hundred gracious deeds spring to each one 
That causes trouble under Heaven’s sun; 



THE TRIUMPH 


28 


Yet it is from the vile exception here 
That you must turn to elevate the sphere. 

The good outnumbers evil ten to one. 

When honesty pervades the mental sun 
All errors sink as if on sinking sand; 

The fruits of honor are forever grand. 

“The errors of mankind have always been 
The starting point for saviors to begin 
Their herculean task against the throng 
Who darken earth’s broad canopy with wrong. 
Reforms designed to elevate the whole 
Immortal race, possessing each a soul, 

Start at the rim and circle to the hub 
Advanced at first by those who stand the rub 
Of persecution, such as all have known, 

Who were the first to jar the mental throne. 

A foolish thought may flourish then decay 
But thoughts worth while will never pass away. 

“The purpose of the artist is to show; 

The business of the statesman is to know; 

The former portrays objects for their charm; 
The latter’s laws keep men from doing harm; 
The first depicts the present or the past; 

The last for all the future molds his cast; 

They lift mankind by mountains of good cheer 
Into a mellow wholesome atmosphere 
That soothes the eye or satisfies the mind; 

The great and glorious are always kind. 

The deeds of all must pass the critic’s eye 
If they survive to aid the passers-by. 

The object of the critics who complain 
Should be to cultivate the human brain. 

To criticize for criticism’s sake 

May prove the critic’s view a sad mistake. 

Wild observations tend to all degrade 
Instead of lifting students from the shade. 

Bad critics are most likely to perceive 
The means by which they benefits receive; 
Their selfish lamps illuminate reforms 
That shelter self from the inclement storms. 
Help by just praise else if you criticize 
Prove bv distinction where the trouble lies; 

The vilest reprobate may make amend 
And by just compensation prove your friend. 



24 


THE TRIUMPH 


The sweetest nectar in the social urn 
Is friendship’s honey as a just return. 

True excellence of purpose during life 
Seeks to avoid the curse of bitter strife; 

Some rulers on the mighty earth are found 
Who emulate this trait the whole year round. 

Like Sweden’s monarch when he said: ‘Pray go’! 
To Norway’s host who had designed it so, 

And sought to force its will with warfare woe 
If necessary to enact the blow. 

“A felon’s foolish folly leads his race 
To drive him from Society’s embrace; 

However blameless his life was before 
He must repine on that dejected shore 
Where the corrective of an earthly law 
O’erwhelms him with its penitential awe. 

If his mistakes have blasted human life 
By malice driving bludgeon, gun or knife, 

The man-made laws demand he then shall pay 
A penalty that takes men’s lives away. 

A heartless punishment can never bring 
To earthly mortals an immortal thing. 

All punishment on earth should better those 
Who as law breakers facts shall so expose. 

Earth’s criminals might work in nature’s field 
Producing gardens whose strength giving yield 
Would mitigate the wrongs that they have done 
While in the path where wrongs so long have run; 
Else they might build good highways for the race 
Who trail the fertile globe from place to place. 
Bright lessons also help all souls before 
They pass from this to the eternal shore; 

Such blessings come as guerdons fairly won 
Before they soar to Heaven’s golden sun. 

One fatal deal may lose men all they had; 

If they can’t pay the world concludes them bad; 
The stone of stern denial is their meed 
In business circles when they favors need. 

The speculator on his neighbor leans; 

The ways all lose that stretch beyond their means. 
Some guzzle till their reason is dethroned 
Bound from the first to lose all that they owned. 

If promises were like the virgin gold 
A bankrupt’s balance sheet would never hold 



THE TRIUMPH 


25 


The telltale figures that encumber men 
Where the commercial gamblers oft begin. 

A gamble is a gamble all the time; 

Against all honest methods it’s a crime. 

A careful calculation of the yield 

Is like the frugal whose perceiving shield 

Corks up the leaks and husbands everything 

That starts the growth whence great possessions spring. 

Don’t torture mortals for refulgent gold 

Or any substance that your eyes behold. 

No one can loiter lest he lose the fight 
To gain his living by industry’s might. 

All willing hands should find the task a joy 
To choose their raiment and foodstuffs to cloy 
The appetite that craves three times a day 
Subsistence that the mighty ages sway. 

Beneath the blue that realms the sky above 
A being prone to toil should never prove 
That suffering from want shall so disgrace 
The passing members of the human race. 

Good men deserve such substance as they need; 

All souls deserve to know the art to read; 

There’s room enough that none should ever fall 
No matter what the number God may call 
To don the garb of life’s eternal robe 
On this or any planetary globe. 

True happiness must play the leading part 
On all the stages of the human heart; 

To this high aim your members here will move 
Till every one attains platonic love, 

Such love is like the boundless atmosphere, 

Its joy producing smiles are everywhere. 

Like roses cluster on the climbing vines 
Profusely as the needles on the pines 
So with the gladness of the happy trend 
That makes each mortal to the rest a friend. 

Good thoughts are like the cereals that grow, 

Or like the crystal rivers as they flow . 

You must stand by the everlasting truth; 

It keeps creation in immortal youth. 

Men pay the penalties that must fall due 
When they the methods of the mean pursue. 

Old Mammon gathers with refulgent gold 
Base legislators who are bought and sold ; 



26 


THE TRIUMPH 


His silken curtains are close drawn between 
To keep the shameful deals from being seen 
By those who ought to know and knowing frown 
On officers who do so low bow down ; 

Like those sly creatures in the favored line 
By legislation sought to undermine 
The people for a ‘Jack Pot’ to divide 
Between the harpies while they seek to hide; 

Yet to the open came the awful tale 
When every guilty gump sent up a wail; 

Some cried out ‘Persecution!’ others vowed: 

‘Pm guilty! let my freedom be allowed, 

Then nevermore an office will I hold!’ 

Ah! how could Jade or Janus be so bold? 

Such Judases had better not been born 
To make themselves and loved ones so forlorn. 
The world some day will have an honest race 
Who will direct affairs without disgrace; 

Then every one will banish self from sight 
When for the whole he plays his role aright. 

An Eden on the globe you may attain 
By cultivating sweetness of the brain. 

The earth was made for an immortal race 
To sail the ship through the expansive space; 

It reads aright from nature’s open book 
The lessons written in each brilliant nook 
Where rolls a sun, a world, a satellite 
To guide its thoughts into the ways of right. 

No matter what men do or may believe 

The day-star shines, the pregnant lands receive 

The scintillating rays that warm the beds 

Where sprouting stamens rear their tender heads 

Responsive to the call of balmy spring 

They show their pleasure in the planet’s swing 

Upon an axis that will never bend 

To suit the currents of the changing wind; 

So with the Ruler of the earth and sky 
He views the whole with an unerring eye; 

He moves the globe with such exquisite grace 
To pave the way for your persuasive race; 

The foolish may deny this august truth 
But that First Cause is undisturbed; in sooth 
It is more constant than the vital breeze 
That sweeps forever o’er the serene seas; 



THE TRIUMPH 


27 


Alas! strange doubts have risen in the course, 

Of minion brain cells to dispute the source 
Whence came creation with its golden glow 
That stimulates the seeds to make them grow; 

Yet still, ah! still, the truth goes marching on 
To keep the record of the globes that run. 

Some day the finite mind will know the truth 
By which the infinite sustains its youth. 

Mankind may trust the glory of the light 
That causes every wrong to turn to right. 

One wrong alone stands forth so vile or dark 
As that which wrecks an embryonic bark 
Before it sets its tiny sails for earth 
Thus robbing nature of a living birth; 

The greater wrong was sounded on the hill 
Of Sinai which says: ‘Thou shalt not kill!’ 

And yet we find thy hosts in killing bold 
Which proves the bloody story not yet told. 

We see all nations in the martial drill 
Preparing to augment the killing mill; 

The royal bandits of your race should find 
More lofty ways than murdering mankind. 

If nations are like creatures let them live 
Enthroned by methods that come from above . 

O, Man arise! shake ofif the felon hold 
That maketh wholesale murderers so bold. 

Come, come, with all your hosts and join my force; 
Let happiness mark out your future course. 

Pray arm yourself with the eternal sword 
Of righteousness to serve the righteous Lord. 

Hoe in His fruitful vineyard day by day— 

Instead of hate let love prepare the way. 

Each day that ever has been has been good 
Though many of your hosts have acted rude. 

The elements break warm and cold at will, 

The storms run wild, volcanoes burst the hill, 

Yet after all the calm comes on so mild 
That its soft breath is like a cooing child; 

Or like a damsel whose angelic lip 
Yields honey for her lover’s lips to sip 
While drinking the ambrosia of delight 
That tends to blind the sentimental sight 
Which satisfies the longings of his heart 
Before he starts to play a husband’s part. 



28 


THE TRIUMPH 


“List! for my theme, as saintly savants know, 

Is fit for demigods who dwell below; 

Thus, thus my friend may I direct your mind 
To pressing questions of a weighty kind, 

As noble deeds spring from an honest heart 
So honest souls do noble thoughts impart. 
Anxiety our mental lamps attend 
When we behold division’s hurtful trend. 

A patriotic party should be one! 

One object should illume each royal son! 

These principles embrace a deathless charm 
To shield all mortals from oppression’s harm. 
When statesmen are enthroned both far and near, 
Their words must sound a note so sweet and clear 
That those at home all feel the public reins 
Are held by men possessing stately brains. 

A lofty being in a lofty place 

May see the wiles of those in foul disgrace, 

Yet, from the stain he keeps his skirts so clean 
That men of letters amplify his mien. 

“Led by events I, with uncovered head, 

Note the high tension of Time’s even tread 
On which I sometimes look with squeamish awe 
To note the methods of some craven daw. 

“Like some official who retains the fees 
Intended the school treasury to ease 
In meeting the expense of public schools 
Wherein the children are taught honest rules 
He vowing ere his own election came 
Such fees he would disdain to hold or claim 
Retaining but the salary prescribed 
While shunning every thought of being bribed; 

A greed for gain leads those who do such things 
To sail life’s ship with bold piratic wings! 

Far wiser are the Penguins near the polls 
Than high officials with dishonest rolls. 

“No law can taint men for their being poor 
None seek that such conditions shall endure— 
Except the indolent, neglectful drone 
Who wastes the time his span of life may own. 

A native honesty, whose zeal for gain 
Keeps up his industry must soon attain 
A high respect, no matter what the worth 
Of his possessions on the mighty earth. 



THE TRIUMPH 


29 


The rich, the poor or fairly fixed may be 
Examples of life’s greatest purity; 

Such cultivate the grain that is worth while 
Wherein immortals gain their lasting smile. 

Ye gods, who don the legislative wings, 

Can beautify the globe’s majestic things; 

Or you may guzzle at a selfish bar 

Whose draughts pollute partakers near and far. 

When your creators ask a thing be done, 

Yours to its purpose, yours be number one 
In its fulfillment; else a dismal blight 
Will cloud thy vision to destroy your might. 

“There’s danger of disaster in delay 
That heightens with the passing of each day. 
Procrastination, Earth’s huge thief of time 
Must cease to practice old Inaction’s crime! 

The globe through countless ages fleetly turns; 
Cream into butter leaps by dashing churns; 

An hour glass keeps time with running sands 
But clocks denote its pace by pointing hands; 

So does the mind of man keep records clear 
Throughout the length of each one’s short career. 
Enactments of the wise will long survive 
But foolish measures can’t be kept alive. 

Add to the oil of gladness till it flows 
In endless torrents from the legal rose 
Whose rich perfume will spread from door to door 
To glad the rich and satisfy the poor, 

Because, like light that streameth from the sun 
Each line respects the rights of everyone.” 

Man stood much like a statue in his place 
His vision saw the light of Heaven’s grace; 

He raised his voice in modulations fair 
As these words melted on the mellow air: 

“I join your forces O Eternal Queen 
Of all the blessings Heaven makes serene! 

I am convinced that Strife is wholly wrong 
Since hearing the harsh burden of his song. 

This play just staged before my anxious eyes 
Opes wide my vision to this huge surprise; 

The shabby garments of my weaker side 
Comes from the curse of my base homicide. 

Oh! how I love the infants that we trot 
Upon our knees! theirs is a wretched lot 



30 


THE TRIUMPH 


If Mars must rule the nations on the globe 
And men refuse Love’s sympathetic robe! 

Ah! how I long to stay this hateful thing 
That bodes such dire results for their offspring! 
Who is not interested in their day 
Is now incompetent for them to say 
What treaties shall bind as we pass along 
While shaping destinies of right or wrong; 

Posterity deserves the best of thought 
To cleanse the world of its most horrid blot. 

“A thought is like a fleet electric spark 
That causes men to turn attention’s hark 
To its true purpose as it passes on 
Beneath the searchlight of each thinking son. 

If after it has run the gauntlet here 
It still survives to make its meaning clear 
Its charm resounds in each immortal line 
To prove the thinker to have been divine; 

But gossip only springs from slander’s ire 
Hence cannot pass through Time’s exploring fire, 
Whose crucibles extract the purest gold 
And saves the nuggets for the gods to hold. 

Deep in the gloom of Failure’s direst plight 
Some men like greedy vultures take delight 
In picking flesh from the sad Failure’s bones 
Or sap his marrow till the victim groans. 

When ships are wrecked they seek the salvage store 
That scatters from the wreck along the shore; 

Nor do they rest on Equity’s broad wings 
To make a fair division of the things 
Some vile attorneys ply each selfish wand 
When bankruptcy o’ertakes misfortune’s band; 

The creditors surround the judge’s chair 
Where his receivers get the lion’s share; 

The favored barristers receive the rest 
Which was the goal of their infernal quest; 

Economy has not a biding place 
So eager are they to reap by disgrace; 

Their brazen cheeks flush not when in surprise 
The creditors look on with sadden eyes 
When no per cent is paid upon their bills 
Yet.there were thousands in the Bankrupt’s tills; 
Else like a jurist, as an imp of state, 

Pollutes the ermine to his purse inflate 



THE TRIUMPH 


31 


Through easy deals laid at his sly command 
For his decision on disputed land— 

He knowing well the judgment was a deal 
Against the code made for the common weal. 
What say you maiden should guide mortals when 
Their high officials let the briber in?” 

“.Base officers (quote she) I class below 
Weak criminals, when they dishonor show. 

The briber and the bribed are both unclean— 

Polluted by the deeds that are so mean 

That charlatans refuse to be allied 

With this debauch such felons long have tried; 

Lost at the outset they all learn in time 

That misery is born of brazen crime 

Which to recount must harrow up the soul 

Like those who tarry at the flowing bowl 

Till bloodshot eyes bring fancies that attend 

Hallucinations with a raving end. 

Of officers who take an ebon fee 
It must be said they court prosperity 
At the great risk of an infernal name 
Won by the methods of the most infame. 

When men are trusted to enforce the law 
Its terms must stand the vile to overawe. 

The law prevails without the aid of Strife, 

To keep the law exalts the greatest life. 

Law is the rampart of the universe. 

All acts that break the law are deeds perverse. 
Good officers its lofty aims pursue; 

The law gives every one his honest due. 

High honor finds in law a firm ally. 

All breakers of the law are honor shy. 

Great honor doth the glorious employ; 

On her estate is everlasting joy. 

The seeds of honor men must freely sow 
To reap its harvest in the fields we know; 

Sweet as ambrosia are its fragrant yields 
On private grounds or in the public fields; 

Its fruit is flavored with good will to man; 

Its wine is sweetened by Creation’s plan; 

Add to its growth; by it you can restore 
An Eden on the sublunary shore; 

In the affairs of every earthly state 
Its essence makes partakers truly great;— 



32 


THE TRIUMPH 


Great, not in shedding any being’s blood 
But great in making earthly creatures good.” 

Above her head an halo seems to swing; 

Expanding in the scintillating ring; 

Its circle whirls around the chieftain’s head 
Transfiguring his being as he said: 

“The valiant must stay this slaughter age; 

This fact appeals to every stately sage; 

All noble deeds are on the side of right; 

God calls on men to stop each bloody fight! 

We have the will as writers all record 

With unfeigned hope of Heaven’s sweet reward. 

No fears of witchcraft dims the human sight; 

Such charges oft have blighted the delight 
Of those inventors who could plainly see 
Discoverers by ingenuity; 

Such searching souls now use their mental wings 
On which to bring to light progressive things. 
Improvements come; in these great modern times 
They blend inventive thoughts like tuneful chimes. 
This planetary orb must never know 
A check in progress—onward—let it flow. 

The steed, the auto, ship and rushing train 
Have made for Friendship an exalted reign; 

They put all human beings side by side 
Though scattered they appear both far and wide; 

By meeting oft the races plainly see 

That good acquaintance makes all men agree. 

Electric forces and the use of steam 

Have brought to action the inventor’s dream. 

A swift communion glides upon the breeze 
Between the states surrounded by the seas; 

By wires on land and wires in every deep 
The great events are gathered while men sleep; 
Clear human voices broadcast everywhere 
To send out joyous news or spread despair, 

Each day’s swift march throughout the mighty earth 
From linotype is borne to every hearth. 

When war alarms in all the papers steal 
The demigods and mortals quake and reel; 

Strong beings weep for loved ones who may fall 
While business shivers from the fearful pall. 

Their economic lights make men agree 
That warfare checks the restless business sea; 



THE TRIUMPH 


33 


It clogs the flow of Life’s sustaining tide 
As panics lash the world on every side; 

The anxious lands who do not wield the blade 
Must feed the mouths where war mistakes are made. 
A government in wealth can feel secure 
Yet one great conflict proves it can’t endure; 

The heavy cost for forts, for fleets and guns 
On public treasures make enormous runs; 

This wherewith turned to Learning’s vigil hand 
Would educate all children in each land; 

Besides the highways of the world we’d see 
Made perfect as Earth’s roadways well can be; 

Their surfaces be made of bonded stone 
Smooth laid to every home in every zone; 

Then automobiles, wagons, hacks and shays 
Would bear a happy people o’er the ways; 

All souls would gladly dwell upon the earth 
Till Nature’s trumpet summons them to death. 

The wherewith cost of war is winnowed chaff 
If weighted with human lives from each land’s staff; 
It needs not proof to found this panting truth; 

The men who fall are from the sturdy youth 
Else from the blissful stage of human life 
When they are torn from children and a wife. 

These sturdy souls to earth are freely given 

For some great aim yet they are rudely driven 

From this sad sphere where sunshine rays have played 

A million aeons blithely as a maid 

Who picks the harp when love tunes every string 

Till her dear wooer gives the diamond ring 

By which he firmly vows that during life 

She shall be his exclusive, wedded wife. 

O, happy Peace, incinerate my soul 

If I don’t make your state my constant goal!” 

Thus gently Peace: “I can not burn your soul 
But I will put you on my living scroll. 

I’ll lead you from the snarl of your disgrace; 

With you I’ll be at every time and place, 

Farewell! Farewell! keep me in constant mind 
And solace you shall never cease to find.” 

Yet as he gazed she vanishes from sight 
Then long he meditates upon the right. 




34 


THE TRIUMPH 


Book III. 

Then Man surveys high Heaven’s canopy 
Before he utters this soliloquy; 

His mind illumined stops his seeing red 
Resolving for the best he wisely said: 

“Oh! why prolong this sorrow breeding trend? 

It hugs barbaric methods to the end! 

I’ll stay the curse of murder by the state 
Then every nation will become more great— 

Great, not in shedding human being’s blood 
But great in making worldly creatures good! 

Too many of my race have had no say; 

When autocrats design they have their way. 

O God-like statesmen! it is yours to tell 
What methods shall avert the work of Hell! 

Let plans be made in ever pregnant clime 
That all may see the long expected time 
When Peace shall reign between the sovereign lands 
And nations bow to all her just demands. 

“All citizens unarmed enjoy sweet peace; 

Their happiness unbounded does not cease; 

While others brawl they keep an even pace— 

A blessing to themselves and to their race; 

So with all countries that have reached the height 
Whose civilizing methods stand for right, 

When they disarm they take each other’s hand 
To aid humanity in every land. 

“Some statesmen so disgrace the present times 
As to sustain Mars in his shameless crimes; 

That countless wealth upholds the martial drums 
While education gets such meager sums; 

Yet, we behold statistics of the facts 
While diplomats display their senseless tacts. 

When men renounce the fierceness of the boar 
The world may rise on holy wings to soar 
Above the clouds that frown so black to all 
When heedless armies fight until they fall. 

“Hark! Lo! The war, as bold Strife prophesied! 
Behold him strutting in his haughty pride! 

Alas! I sigh for every mother’s son 
As from my eyes the scalding torrents run 
Increasing till they flood the sodden ground 
Where neighbors weep with neighbors all around! 



THE TRIUMPH 


35 


One fervent prayer from millions now ascend 
That this huge holocaust may come to end; 

Yet swiftly rushing onward, O the sight! 

The battling forces all increase the fight. 

“Brave Serbia is first, to feel the blow, 

Her panting hosts drink from the cup of woe! 

Mars sets his heel on her high heaving breast; 

The muses hesitate to tell the rest! 

“Next Belgium’s royal forces meet the foe 
Who quickly return heavy blow for blow 
Back, back, she falls, contesting every field, 

Each fortress holding until forced to yield; 

Her devastated lands become a flame 
In which her enemies are lost to shame! 

Her patient forces display courage then 
Becoming in the bravest fighting men; 

Yet they recede, till France is overrun 
To where the Marne runs flashing in the sun. 

Here with her French allies they make a stand 
Ne’er equaled by the arms of any land. 

The German charges oft hurled back then came 
With bravery that heightened their great name. 

Twas here their legions have much cause to yearn 
For here the bloody war has its first turn; 

They were the victors on preceding fields 
But here their doom the Allies firmly seals; 

So many of her soldiers here were hurled 
Into the shades of the eternal world 
That she and her associates fall back 
To where they build ramparts against attack. 

At Verdun the bold Germans seek to sweep 
All things before them; for long months they keep 
A hot bombardment such as never came 
From ordinance since Eden rose to fame. 

“Meanwhile the Serbs, Roumanians and Greeks 
Engage the Turks and Bulgars till deep creeks 
Of steaming blood flow from their fighting lines 
As Russia on the Germans makes designs; 

She swift invades the dusky German lands 
And drives her headlong ere her army stands 
When she turns on her rampant eastern foe— 

And gives the Russians one huge knock-out blow; 

The Russians yield, then quickly sue for peace 
Which gives the Germans a long sought release; 



36 


THE TRIUMPH 


From arms that menace them on Russia’s side— 

The Russians failing those with them allied; 
Germania and her allies, who were one, 

Felicitate each other when she won. 

The Russians scarce their arms are all laid down 
Rush to decapitate their country’s crown; 

They bore him far away through snow and rain 
Thus terminates his autocratic reign. 

No tidings came of where his living ends 
As Bolshevists his spirit onward sends. 

“Anon anent the Alpine border lands 
Italians and the Austrians take their stands 
They struggle back and forth across the field 
Each never willing one short foot to yield. 

“In the meantime Great Britain rules the main 
Save where the German submarines all gain 
By sinking ships that came within the path 
Where Germany’s bold monarch vents his wrath; 
The English also aided where and when 
They note a chance the mighty war to win. 

“Brave Nippon, with an anxious eye looks on 
And views with furtive glances every one, 

She seizes German holdings in her range 
But with the real fight remains estrange. 

“Germania now insults Columbia’s pride 
Whose anger flashes quickly o’er the tide; 

She sinks two vessels of the lovely miss 
Who had been christened by sweet Freedom’s kiss; 
Her classic spokesman heightens her great name 
And wins himself an everlasting name; 

Then great America with rapid pace 
Speeds o’er the tides to run a war-fare race; 
Insulted by the Germans she replies 
T take my place beside your foe allies.’ 

Columbia hoists her flag on Europe’s shore 
Thence-forth the central powers win no more; 

With deep exploding bombs her brave marines 
End the boat sinking of the submarines. 

At Chateau Thierry and the Argonne 
She breaks all records whence the Germans flee; 
Like flying geese who seek a milder zone 
When Boreas sweeps on the wilds they own; 

So with the Germans when they see the might 
That fair Columbia brings into the fight 



THE TRIUMPH 


37 


They seek their land where they were fortified 
Where oft the entire world they had defied. 

“The raging war keeps rushing like a storm 
Where heavy clouds first scatter, then reform; 

Or bursting craters as volcanoes blast 
Send whirling lurid nether flames that cast 
A barage glow where shells burst thick and fast 
As sheets of poison gas keep rushing past 
Like lightning streaking through an angry cloud 
Which overhangs as some appalling shroud 
Where rifle shots send forth a hail of steel 
And hot machine guns make long dense lines reel 
As hand grenades and wildly rushing tanks 
Cut their broad swaths in the mass forming ranks 
’Neath airplanes thickly flying overhead, 

Each dropping bombs to fill the hosts with dread, 
Mid brilliant flashes of exploding fire 
Of roaring cannons where men oft retire 
Through day and night time booming everywhere 
Makes sweet reposing sleep devoid of cheer. 

A score of million troops charge, break, reform 
Each corpse more raging than an angry storm, 
Along the trenches for two thousand miles 
That wreaths vile Strife in smirking, gloating smiles, 

“Like two express trains meeting on a bend 
Collide full head on crashing end to end 
Each rushing at a rapid rate of speed 
To gain lost time their crews believe they need, 
Dispatching many passengers and crew 
Who, of the cause, most of them never knew; 

Some e’en survive when the great impact came 
To perish when the debris bursts in flame; 

As the flames rise some voices faintly moan 
Yet others loudly wail their pinning down; 

Still other souls survive the fate to tell 
Of those who sound their own departing knell. 

So with the war that lately came to end; 

Pathetic are the woes that oft attend 

The shell shock patients and the wounded corpse 

Who yet remain on this uneasy shore. 

Four weary years the war dogs howl along, 

Ten million souls heed Gabriel’s trumpet song! 

They during future ages ne’er will come 
Across the threshold of each earthly home; 



38 


THE TRIUMPH 


Thus parent hearts can never beat with ease 
Till war is driven from the lands and seas. 

“And O the refugees! their dreadful plight 
Appalls me! grieves me! haunts me day and night! 
As mothers, children, of all age and size, 

And hoary men whom Mars has ceased to prize; 

All ragged, filthy, hungry, glut each road 
Escaping the late flames of each abode; 

Most creeping on not knowing even where 
Possessing nothing but a deep despair! 

O horrors! horrors ! horrors ! lo ! such woe ! 

Shame on the hateful pest that makes it so! 

There is no reason, justice or delight 
That rouses nations to such bloody plight. 

“Meanwhile behind their long receding line 
The German people hunger and repine 
As the world’s spokesman writes in this sharp vein 
‘With your vain Kaiser we won’t treat again! 

Get rid of him at any valid cost, 

Then our fair allied lands will treat you just!’ 

This message falling from the swift air planes 
Destroys the morale of the German trains; 

They have more force than all the blazing guns 
To stay the torrent, gushing, bloody runs. 

His God-like messages spread like the wind 
As harbingers of Peace, the war to end; 

His fourteen burner chandelier gives light 
By which the central powers see the right. 

“The Kaiser from his land now flies with dread 
Then an armistice stays the flow of lead, 

A celebration flashes round the world 
As gladness from the earth to sky is hurled; 

The people loose the pent up hopes they bore 
That shook the seas and lands from shore to shore; 
The earthly chant below; angels above 
The sentiments of universal love. 

Oh! why not cultivate this happy trend 
That cruel, heartless wars may come to end? 

Yet savants prophesy another war 
So fierce, the beauty of all lands will mar! 

Oh! let us importune Almighty God 
That his supernal grace will such forbid. 

“The Germans break the chains of tyranny 
And build themselves a state of liberty; 



THE TRIUMPH 


39 


They then resolve with other lands to live 
On this fair globe in amity and love; 

Do to all lands as she craves from each clime 
Resolving war to be earth’s greatest crime. 

When freedom rules a state it seeks to give 
A chance, on earth, for every state to live, 

With happiness to sate each heart’s desire 
Without the push of autocratic fire. 

Oppression has no place in such a state; 

Its civilizing tread is always great. 

Arise! arise! ye statesmen near and far 
To sound the knell of unrelenting war. 

One wrong arighted makes another right! 

Anon the world will stop its fiercest blight. 

“The laurel is the mighty hero’s crown! 

The olive branch is grander in renown! 

Though to the hero this may give surprise 
The latter is the emblem of the skies. 

The hero seeks to rule the world below; 

For this he strikes a fierce courageous blow; 

Yet after he is gone a hostile hand 
Springs up to seize the same unguarded land; 

But through the reign of Life’s sustaining peace 
The sun, the stars and planets never cease 
To send their beauty through the universe 
Displaying naught that any would reverse; 

They move along with such majestic grace 
They gladden every eye and every place. 

“The brawlers of the world have always been 
Loquacious for great troubles to begin 
Then from the danger zone remain afar 
Yet hiss the dogs of man-debasing war; 

They shout unceasing for the use of arms; 

Cry ‘mollycoddles’ when men show peace charms; 
Scream ‘pussyfooter’ if they meet a man 
Whose courage keeps him close to Heaven’s plan; 
These are the demagogues who make appeal 
To all the vicious passions mortals feel. 

The autocrats and demagogues have been 
A menace to the peaceful bent of men.” 

Thus saying he sank in a sweet repose 
Determining that Mars he will depose. 

Sweet as the rose that blushes with the dawn 
Its fragrance spreading o’er the verdant lawn, 



40 


THE TRIUMPH 


Is that dear sentiment of which I sing 
While devastating cannons loudly ring 
On Verdun’s stage and others near and far 
Resounding and detoning in the war, 

Where men are blown to atoms by the score 
And millions fly to the eternal shore! 

No one could tell the purpose, or the cause 
Of this world war; all reckons were suppose; 

Some say: “Germania’s ruler seeks to rule 
The spacious earth and make it his foot-stool;” 

But others cry: “Britannia hopes to gain 
The globe as hers—especially the main;” 

Still some declare: “It is in quest of trade”— 

A sordid purpose, thus to wield the blade. 

There’s room upon this sphere for all to live 
In luxury, if each will take and give; 

Our mines and herds and flocks and crops so prove, 
Then why not dwell in amity and love? 

Our females we hold best of our great race 
Because of virtue, truth, peace, love and grace; 

They suffer for our wars, our greed, our lust! 

O men! in actions let us be more just. 

I’m proud to say: “I am too proud to fight”, 

Except I am forced to defend some right; 

All men so bent their disputes may adjust 
Upon some ground that is to each one just; 

If not an arbitration court can say 

What each one shall receive and each one pay; 

This principle should guide both men and states 
Through all the narrows of our dealing straits. 

The Saviour of Mankind did all things right, 

His method is to never brawl or fight. 

War-fighting is the saddest earthly grin! 

Stop being brutes that we may all be men! 

Brute force is for the jungle, woods or fen 
But has no place among wise-thinking men, 

By fact or fiction or the sweetest dream 
Humanity can ne’er divine a theme 
In which the world may drink of more delight 
Than in repairing war’s pernicious blight. 

Truth, in her nakedness, stands on the fields 
Undaunted by the clash of arms or shields, 

She keeps account of wrongs that have been done 
By bludgeon, battle axe, the sword or gun; 



THE TRIUMPH 


41 


In her just scales the good and bad she weighs 
Recording all for the accounting days; 

Hate scowls and snarls with autocratic air 
At every thought that is to beings fair; 
Unmindful of the rights to mortals given 
He leads unthinking souls away from Heaven. 
Close to the gate of happiness we see 
Kind Peace arrayed in bright felicity; 

Around the gate the angels sing each day 
“This is the entrance to the happy way!” 

Too long the race of man has been a prey 
For vicious men to steal its blood away. 
Great nations stand with chip on shoulder laid 
Defying all to touch the selfish maid, 

Of assumed honor, born of greed perchance, 
Which but to touch you feel an army’s lance. 
When Justice holds her scales in equipoise 
And statesmen cease their rant, that so annoys, 
All lands will join to do away with Strife 
And give to Peace a reign of endless life. 

Her triumph means the triumph for God’s race! 
A triumph that is void of all disgrace! 

When earthly rulers shake their selfish pride 
And with the cause of Peace become allied 
Men will enlist in her attractive corps 
To reap for aye her harvest o’er and o’er. 

From seeds we sow in fields of fervent love 
We garner here and where our spirits live 
When we shall navigate the silver sea 
To our abode for all eternity; 

Throughout the years on that supernal shore 
Such seed will fruit and ripen evermore 
Until this earth has melted in the tide, 

Of time, like snowflakes in the ocean wide 
And then such seed will grow a lovely vine 
Around the throne of Heaven to entwine; 

Thus all the world should be in one accord 
Obeying, like the universe, the word 
Of Him who rules by the eternal plan 
That glorifies the honesty of man. 



42 


THE TRIUMPH 


The Finale 

How soothing is the downy lap of time, 

Its gentle rock lulls every soul to sleep; 

Though wracked with grief because of some dark crime 
It brings relief to those who longest weep. 

The winter’s blasts doth all the flowers kill 
Yet do the new buds ope with every spring 

So with just souls in Time’s untiring mill 
Find solace that the future ages bring. 

When Man first found the avenues of sin 
From Eden’s bowers he was driven thence; 

Still there was sweet contentment for all men 
That they might find through stern obedience. 

Close to the Dardanelles long, long since past 
The ancients fought the bloody siege of Troy; 

Her lofty walls were crumbled by the blast 
That drove the Trojans from the fount of joy. 

Great Caesar came to build a deathless name; 

Still others rose too numerous to tell; 

They marched along the rugged roads of fame 
Across the fields where bloody torrents fell. 

The sad results forever are the same 

When mortals seek to crush each other down. 

Hence there is need for Peace whose deathless fame 
And glory may disperse the clouds that frown. 

Oh! let me heave an ocean of sweet peace 
Into the clouds that they may rain a flood 

Of essence that will cause mankind to cease 
The awful curse of shedding human blood. 


[THE END] 



A joy fills my soul as I muse of Niagara; 

When, quick to the race, it leaps forth 
from the lake; 

The flash, and the dash, as it runs on 
so merry; 

Enthuse with its sparkle all eyes who 
partake. 

The scene of vast billows swift flowing 
and dashing, 

And splashing, and rolling so grandly 
along; 

A thrill fills my frame when I gaze on 
its flashing 

And list to the roar of the cataract 
song; 

The grand old Niagara! the fleet old 
Niagara! 

I sigh for the roar of the cataract song. 

So grand in their sweep are the fast flow¬ 
ing rapids, 

When reaching the head of the deep 
wooded isle; 

Which stands in its beauty, a rest for the 
dryads, 

Who gaze in grave wonder while wrapt 
in a smile. 

So oft have I tarried, to list to its music, 

And note every move of the vast liquid 
throng; 

Then breathe deep the air which came on 
so esthetic, 

Surcharged with the hum of the cat¬ 
aract song; 

The great old Niagara! the blithe old 
Niagara! 

I sing of the glee of the cataract song. 

Though riven in twain yet it stays not a 
moment, 

But fleet to its purpose the river doth 
flow; 















44 


NIAGARA 


The isle in her beauty bedecked, as a garment, 

With cool shady bowers where trees ever grow. 

A thrill of sweet pleasure creeps over my being 
As ’cross the grand scene in rich fancy I view; 

The green tints so deep with its beauty is gleaming, 
While mists from the cataract fall pure as dew; 
The mists of Niagara, the tears of Niagara! 

I long for the mists of the cataract dew. 


How fearless the river now reaches, so grandly, 

The brink of the ledge ere it leaps far below; 

One vast gushing plunge, full of grace so divinely, 
Enthrall all its forces to join in the flow. 

Now white as the snowflakes the mass of wild waters, 
Pervading with force, strike the basin below; 

While rising so gently, yet upward the specters 
Unveil, in their beauty, the paragon glow; 

The veil of Niagara! the gauze of Niagara! 

I chant of the veil of the cataract glow. 

The mist in its beauty, like fluffy light vapors, 

Arise through the sunbeams a rainbow to form; 

While during the night time the moonbeaming tapers 
Touch softly the cloudlets which lend the same charm. 
A pleasure most pleasing comes over one’s being, 

When whiling the time of the day or the eve, 

Upon the old banks of the cataract seeing 
These optic illusions so sweet to receive. 

The rainbow Niagara! the iris Niagara! 

I hum of the charm in the cataract’s cleave. 


So deep, the wild waters plunge into the fountain, 

An urn in the earth it has made to embrace 
Its force, as it sinks in the inverted mountain, 

Then rising to surface with rotating grace. 

Now placid, the waters assume a calm movement, 

As gentle as air, after taming the storm; 

Yet surging and rolling, thence on in a moment 
It tears through the gorge on the whirlpool to form; 
The falls of Niagara! the force of Niagara! 

Lend sweetest of pleasure from magnetic charm. 



FOND MEMORIES 


45 


Now whirling, and swirling, and surging, and rolling, 
The whirlpool Niagara comes plainly to view; 
Where laving, and waving, and sinking, and rising, 

The waters in gladness lend pleasures anew. 

’Twas here in the ages when long the vast dashing 
From high standing cliffs ere the torrent had worn 
The gorge to the present dear spot of its crashing 
The falls for long cycles had driven and torn; 

The whirlpool Niagara! the swirlpool Niagara! 

Was made in its depths by the cataract lorn. 

So grand in its dash is this swift flowing river, 

From Erie’s broad wave down to Ontario; 

Its exquisite flow lends delight’s fondest quiver 
As along its green banks we move to and fro. 

The zenith of all the wide world in its beauty, 

With romantic energy moving so grand; 

This liquid, in movement, is doing a duty; 

In showing the force of a far greater Hand; 

The plan of Niagara! the river Niagara! 

Is plainly the mark of the infinite Hand. 


FOND MEMORIES 

While standing today where my mother sleeps 
I felt the charm that so tenderly keeps 
My soul most true to the lessons she told 
To me, more priceless than jewels and gold; 

They lend my thoughts sweetest hopes every day 
And guide my steps in the well-beaten way 
Made by her footfalls while she was on earth, 

I hold them dearest and greatest in worth. 

As my mind goes back through the lapse of time 
My soul is thrilled with its magnetic chime; 

I muse of the times and places I played, 

When often my soul so earnestly prayed 
That I prove worthy at least of the care 
Which each fond parent bestowed on me there, 
My thoughts like to stray to those happy days 
When every betide was turned into rays 
Of brightness; when shadows never befell 
So dark, but her love would always dispel. 




46 


FOND MEMORIES 


And then, when I strolled through the woodland shade, 
I saw but the good in all that was made 
By Him, whose guidance she taught me to heed; 

In times of sweet bliss as well as in need; 

Or if I wandered by Chariton’s banks 
My heart exulted with tenderest thanks 
That I should be blessed with such parent care 
And live in the charm of such atmosphere. 

O, dearest of times, and brightest of days! 

I think of them all with thanksgiving praise. 


I love every name and love all the rules 
Around the old home and even the school 
Where Sadie and Tola, each with sweet looks, 
With Minnie dear, to detract from my books; 

And sometimes provoked the teachers would scold 
But when I went home my mother would hold 
Her boy to her heart when sadly I’d tell 
Of lessons I failed to have fairly well; 

A kiss she would give, then say so sublime 
“I know my child will do better next time.” 


I love the good name of old Mercyville, 

Now changed to Elmer, e’en more charming still; 
Where my fond parents like the oak and vine 
For five decades and three years, so divine 
Entwined there their names, as angels regale, 
Sweetly and truly as love’s dearest tale; 

Their beings melted as firm into one 

As e’er were wed since the world was begun. 

To these worthy parents six children came 
And five of us lived to bless each good name, 
When out in the world we left them to go 
To care for ourselves, as all of us know, 

We oft returned to the old village seat 
To find it the same love-biding retreat; 

And in coming years wherever I roam 
I’ll never forget my old blissful home. 

All folks who came ’neath the old cottage roof 
Will stand up freely and give truest proof 
That ne’er any one whether rich or poor 
Was turned away from that old cottage door; 
Even strangers bent on private affairs 
Were treated as angels sent unawares. 



THE PATRIOTS SCYTHE 


47 


This kindly story of them I forsooth, 

Glean from memory laid up since youth; 

Thus when the Angels bore mother above 
They took one who lived and lived but to love. 

My mind from the past to future is led; 

My love for her grows e’en though she is dead. 
Dead? Nay! Not so! ’Tis madness! It is strife! 
For that which seems death is starting of life. 

Our thoughts go out to that faraway shore, 

You ask, “Shall we see our mother no more? 

Will her love and worth be lost on the main, 

And we never meet that dear one again?” 

No! By Yonder Light which shines from above 
We all shall meet her and bask in the love 
Of that Light which shines, but never perverse,— 
It saves all who live in the universe! 

Oh! we all shall meet our mothers I know 
By a Voice which calls from that far off glow; 

From our last home we never will sever 
But sing God’s praises ever and ever. 


THE PATRIOT’S SCYTHE 

“Dear Mother, let my growing scythe 
Hang while I go to war; 

Our country needs its young and blithe 
To stay this rebel roar. 

“I’ll mow the lot on my return 
And finish well the job; 

But now I feel the soldier’s yearn 
Within my bosom throb! 

“The nation calls for sturdy men 
To put the trouble down; 

Within a month our southern kin 
Will cease their angry frown! 

“Don’t worry for your tardy son 
I’ll cut the grass some day; 

When we have fought and proudly won 
This fearsome, brawling fray.” 




48 


THE PATRIOTS SCYTHE 


Thus spake young Hiram at the time 
He left Log Landin’s place; 

And went, in all his youthful prime, 
To run a warfare race. 

A neighbor bore this tidings then— 
“Our land is called to arms!” 

At once he joined a throng of men 
Who left their growing farms. 

Nor did he stop to change his duds 
But to the front he came; 

Nor even use the cleansing suds 
His soul was so aflame. 

High in the Balm-of-Gilead’s crotch 
The blade swung for a year; 

Where it had worn a tiny notch 
That held the sharpen shear. 

Then on a furlough came the boy, 

His mother’s soul to cheer; 

This filled her widowed heart with joy 
To meet her only dear. 

Again he said, “I’ll mow each weed 
Don’t move my trusty blade; 

I’ll cut the stems and then I’ll need 
To seek this pleasant shade.” 

And then he left for that dark field 
Where many lose the sword 

That typifies the life they yield, 

When lost among the horde. 

His reckon of our kin was wrong; 

For braver men ne’er sang, 

With guns the booming musket song 
Than they, when powder rang. 

They were the height of chivalry 
With valor on the march, 

And manhood, we must all agree, 
Throughout each chiliarch. 



THE PATRIOT’S SCYTHE 


49 


Their legions, with the Stonewall brave 
And Robert on the scene, 

Could wield the mighty warfare glave 
As strong as e’er was seen. 

It took the prowess of the land 
Like Grant and Hancock bore, 

With all our brave boys at command 
To quell their cannon’s roar. 

It took the planning of the great, 

With Lincoln at the helm, 

To save the vast Republic state 
One whole and perfect realm. 

The scenes were thrilling to the core 
From Vicks’ to Gettysburg; 

Where shells were bursting by the score 
With one huge solemn dirge. 

At great Antietam, with its dead 
And old Cold Harbor’s bar, 

Were sounded knells we mortals dread! 
Each left a monstrous scar! 

Ten thousand shed each drop of blood 
In one swift charge or sweep; 

They all we number with the good 
Who from each side doth sleep. 

The scythe of war was reaping souls 
Like sickles out the grain; 

On every field the muster rolls 
Let lakes of life blood drain. 

A million mothers prayed that peace 
Might hover o’er the land, 

That each could have another lease 
To grasp a loved one’s hand. 

From North to South this fervent prayer 
Was sent on wings above; 

Yet, still the fight did rage and tear 
With patriotic love. 



50 THE PATRIOTS SCYTHE 


Each manly lad who wore the blue 
Or donned the Dixie gray; 

Was loved by mothers such as you 
Who read of that sad day. 

Young Hiram fills an unknown grave 
Where winds chant o’er the sward, 

No mortals knew where this young brave 
Gave up his vital guard. 

His mother mourned her long lost child, 
Yet kept his solemn charge 

Which fell in accents soft and mild 
Upon her soul’s frail barge. 

The tree grew ’round the painted steel 
And crowded off the sneed; 

Young Johnson’s terms it seemed to feel, 
His will it seemed to heed. 

Upon each Decoration Day 
The neighbors far and near, 

Brought flowers, beautiful and gay, 

His mother’s life to cheer. 

They laid the blossoms in the shade, 
While loving words were said, 

Then hung great wreaths upon the blade 
In honor of the dead. 

The mother, pining, went away 
Beyond the sullen tomb, 

But on each thirtieth of May 

The people strew love’s bloom. 

They rally on the hallowed spot 
And sing the songs we love; 

Then pile the blossoms each have got 
For patriots above. 

The tree yet hugs the mowing blade 
Where it should always rest, 

Like that fond parent held her babe 
When he first soothed her breast. 



THE STREAM OF LIFE 


51 


Oh! may our ship ne’er see again 
Such sorrow and such woe! 
But sail, forever, on the main 
Where peaceful waters flow. 


THE STREAM OF LIFE 

The stream of life is flowing on 
Where joy with sorrow meets 

To shape the end of every one 
Whom its Creator greets. 

In awe I muse on every wave, 

That spreads from shore to shore, 

And search for things we mortals gave 
That were not here before. 

The sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, 
Preceded human kind; 

Ere any creature came of birth 
There was a master mind. 

We use the substance that we find 
Of water, land or wind; 

Of light, of beauty, love or mind; 

But can’t an atom lend. 

Development’s progressive work, 

In cultivation’s hold, 

May draw attention till each spark 
Produces grain or gold. 

There is a power governs all 
No matter where we are; 

It guides the planets great and small 
And treats them on the square. 

That power, wisdom doth declare, 

Will never mope or nod 

And it is so surpassing fair 
We term the being God. 




52 


THE STREAM OF LIFE 


He sees our frailties; knows our aims; 
He keeps our hearts aglow; 

He sends the lull that gently tames 
Our troubles here below. 

We came to this attractive place 
Without our will or aid; 

We hope, through His unselfish grace 
To all survive death’s shade. 

If any creature knew this life 
Was all that it could see 

Before it joined this lowly strife 
’Twould shout: “Pray let me be!” 

“O! let me learn not how to love 
A race that must descend; 

Until its dismal plight must prove 
A failure in the end!” 

To learn and then be brought to end 
Is gloom’s most potent creed 

It cannot be that man’s best Friend 
Will so disperse his seed. 

This stage is but a stepping stone 
To that of which we dream; 

Eternity is ours to own 

We’ll see its entire stream. 





Zfe Burafion °CZoSc 


On the lawns around Cupid’s castle 

The flowers of love are full blown; 

They glorify each human title 

And strengthen the life bearing zone. 

The Lord gave these blossoms their fragrance 
The Angels bathe in their perfume; 

Who dwelleth in their soft affiance 
Abideth where Heavens illume. 

An Eden, festooned with green bowers, 
Aboundeth along the god’s lane, 

Where engaging songs while the hours 
To charm with each dulcet refrain. 

Woe unto the man who profanely 

Doth force the bloom growers to part; 

Before the time cometh divinely 

When nature sends death’s piercing dart. 

Though they may be riven asunder 
By yielding to some foolish pride 

The stars may grow dim without number, 
But love mates are ever allied. 

God blendeth the hearts of true lovers; 

An enchanting joy fills their souls; 













54 


THE CHILDREN 


Secure are they bound with sweet fetters 
Henceforth as the future unrolls. 

Eternity is love’s duration; 

A boundless space forms its domain; 

An infinite God fans this passion 

That burns in the heart of each brain. 

Dear Olga, forget not that Oscar 
Is thine while the seons shall fly; 

He’ll greet thee with each soothing whisper 
The breezes shall waft from the sky. 

’Tis better to love and be riven 

Than never to feel its fond kiss! 

’Tis better to reach the calm haven 
Than miss the delight of its bliss. 


THE CHILDREN 

The setting sun had passed from sight; 

His rays yet kept the sky aglow; 

A halo from his mellow light 

Spread o’er the saffron world below. 

When nearing home, as swift I strode, 

My glances met each hue and glare; 

A bairn came tripping down the road; 

To greet his papa then and there. 

No guile was lingering in his breast; 

No vile deceit was hiding there; 

But all the charming lad possessed 
Was thrown into his actions fair. 

I fondly gave a round caress 

And met his tender lips with mine; 

I thought, the world does not possess 
A treasure half so rich and fine. 

Each nimble limb had lovely tips 

With trunk and head so neat and trim; 
His flashing eyes and tinted lips 

Drew love from all who met with him. 




THE CHILDREN 


55 


His gentle mien, so fond and true, 

Wrung from my soul most tender care ; 
Where’er I went I always knew 

His childish love would follow there. 

Ye men, who yearn for sacred truth; 

List to the song I gently sing; 

I would not give this happy youth 
For all the wealth of every king. 

True, parents feel this holy pride; 

Without reserve they strive to move 
The best of earth, with rapid stride, 

To those dear objects of such love. 

All dangers coming in the way 

Of our dear ones we fight aside; 

With vigil hand, by night and day, 

We seek to pair all evil tide. 

To care for those, our own offspring, 
Awakens man to higher life; 

It gives a husband just the thing 

Which seals him firmly to his wife. 

Of “Little Ones” I have but four; 

Who came to cheer me on my way; 

If what I have be less or more 

I’ll gladly share with them each day. 

Then, when the light of day is done, 

And slumbers steal upon my frame, 

My parting prayer for every one 
Is sent to Heaven in each name. 

Could I but write, with love perforce, 

And cause all mates to procreate 
I’d save the land from much divorce 
And bless the parties and the state. 

The children fill our homes with bliss; 

To sturdy members of earth’s clan; 
They lend a pleasing sacred kiss; 

The sweetest nectar known to man, 




56 


DON’T 


I fain would ask this priceless boon 
To fringe the path of mated life; 
That childhood flowers, blooming soon, 
Allay all bitter parting strife. 


DON’T 

Don’t count your chicks before they hatch; 

Don’t count them, sir, I pray; 

For peeping chicks may fail to scratch 
In life’s uncertain play. 

Don’t build air castles without work; 

Don’t build them for the heart. 

For everything that comes from shirk 
Is early to depart. 

Don’t backbite neighbors young or old; 

Don’t slander them, I say; 

For silly stories that are told 
May cause a deadly fray. 

Don’t go in debt beyond your means; 

Remember this, my friend; 

For it may cause bankruptcy scenes 
To curse you to life’s end. 

Don’t bathe in waters that are deep 
Before you learn to swim; 

Don’t cause a living soul to weep 
Or make one’s trust grow dim. 

Don’t fret, don’t harp, don’t scold, don’t nag; 

For such things are uncouth; 

Don’t be an egotistic brag 
But stick to living truth. 

Don’t violate your country’s code 
No matter where you are; 

If laws make an unequal load 
Th^n seek amendments fair. 




AN AUTO RIDE 


57 


AN AUTO RIDE 

Did you ever take your sweetheart 
For a little auto ride; 

Far away among the meadows 

Through the country, broad and wide? 

Proud you were of your vehicle 

When her fancy it would please; 

While you saw the sweets of nature, 

You could drink the summer breeze. 

Oh! the day it was so charming, 

As you spun along the lane, 

And you felt the cheery welkin 

You would hope to feel again; 

As you drove among the forests, 

In the cool refreshing shade, 

When you ventured on a mission 

Of sweet courtship with the maid. 

First you lay your arm so gently 

Round her slender, graceful form; 

And you steal a bit of nectar 

Just to make a greater charm; 

Then the lovely creature blushing 
Turns her precious pouting lip 

As if aiming then to chide you, 

When you take another sip. 

Did you ever hear her whisper, 

As the wheels so swiftly spin, 

“Ah, my dear! You are a dandy 
And the brightest of all men!” 

Then you threw wide ope the throttle 
Just to make a greater show; 

When the auto in its madness 
Balks! refuses then to go! 

How you’d look and work and bluster 
To find where the trouble lay; 

While your thoughts you’d always smother 
Lest you shock your darling May; 

If expressed e’en in a whisper 

It might vex the lovely maid; 

So you tugged away in silence 
For your love made you afraid. 



58 


AN AUTO RIDE 


On the top and underneath it; 

On your stomach in the dust; 

With keen sight and so much straining 
That you felt you’d surely bust; 

Oft you sat upon your bunkers 
For a little rest to get, 

When you’d feel the lather foaming 
From the downward flowing sweat. 

So, at last, when full exhausted, 

Of your own inventive store; 

Then you set about for helpers 

To drag home the fiendish bore; 

And your collar, white as snowflakes 
When you met your love, so true; 

Is as flabby as a dishrag 

Soaked with greasy waters through. 

Then the sun recedes from vision— 
Passes from the azure west; 

The old moon ascends triumphant 
To display his silver breast, 

When you reach the nearest farmyard 
And you shout “hello’s” alarm; 

Then the bulldog comes a-howling 
To protect the good old farm. 

Now with wildest fright and fancy 
Swift you climb the highest fence 

And remain while e’en the tiller 

From a meeting’s coming thence; 

Now imagine how the farmer 

Is surprised on reaching home; 

To behold such lovely creatures 
Anxious for some help to come. 

Then the planter takes their auto 

And the young folks back to town 

For a figure ten in dollars, 

First before his eyes laid down; 

And at two o’clock next morning, 

When they struck their bed of ease 

Far apart they calmly studied 

O’er the things that always please. 

1906 . 



BRINGING HOME THE COWS 


59 


BRINGING HOME THE COWS 

In the dawn of earthly glory 

Through the years when I was young, 

We had pleasures by the hundreds; 

Merry songs we always sung; 

Oft I’d ride across the prairies 

Or beneath the woodland boughs, 

Just before the evening twilight 
To bring home the gentle cows. 

When the berries grew in clusters 
On the briars near the rills, 

And the apple, peach and cherry, 

Decked the valleys and the hills; 

Or the corn tops were all golden, 

Free from cultivating plows; 

They were luscious things to garner 
Yet, I’d rather bring the cows. 

In the autumn we went nutting 

Which we gathered by the load; 

Far into the woods we’d travel 

Driving ’round without a road; 

Now it sometimes took shrewd planning 
To select the ways, and hows, 

Winding through the mighty forests— 
Thus I’d rather bring the cows. 

Other times we went a-fishing 

In the lakes and flowing brooks; 

Else we’d stroll among the meadows 
Plucking flowers from their nooks; 

These are joyous things to follow, 

When the cares of life allows; 

But of all the cheerful duties 

Then, I’d rather bring the cows. 

When in winter we went coasting 
Or went skating here and there, 

With a party of the young folks 
To cheer up the bracing air; 

We would gather round our bonfires 
Warming up ’mid urbane bows; 

Those were happy things a-doing; 

Yet I’d rather bring the cows. 



60 


BRINGING HOME THE COWS 


We had merrymaking parties 

Where the boys and girls would meet 

At some home of genial parents 

For the dear ones whom we’d greet; 

O! those happy days of childhood 
Our fond memory endows; 

But I can’t forget the gladness 
Of my bringing home the cows. 

O! those good old gentle bossies 

How they leisurely would come; 

Nipping grass and lowing glibly 

As they’d near the good old home. 

But on coming to the barnyard 

They would raise the greatest rows, 

By their bawling at the calvies; 

How I loved those good old cows. 




There was a pretty Buttercup 
Grew on a lovelit hill; 

And near her dwelt a sturdy bloom— 

A gallant Daffodil. 

A courtship sprang between the two 
Its flame of love was fine; 

The gallant said: “My darling lass, 

I am your Valentine.” 

She sweetly said: “You’ve won my heart 
My nectar is all thine;” 

But on her lips a strange bee 
Soon came to sip and dine. 

When Daffo’ saw his fairly belle, 

Give up that sweet distill; 

In rage he said: “My dainty miss 
I’m not your Daffodil.” 


She smiling said, in meek reply, 

“Oh! well, ’tis plain to see; 

My love hath risen and has flown 
With my fleet honey bee.” 

The gallant slowly homeward went 
And put his love among 
The relics of his long lost hopes 

And said, “Oh! I’ve been stung.” 



















62 


THE END OF THE LANE 


THE END OF THE LANE 

What have I done for the human swarm 
Fed it on honey free from all harm 
Or have I been a drone in the hive 
Burdening self and those who survive? 

Ah! what shall I by my acts attain 
When I have reached the end of the lane? 

Have I usurped some rights not my own 
Made some hearts throb and many souls groan 
Or have I caused poor mortals to smile 
Giving them blessings truly worth while? 

Which is the record here to remain 
When I have reached the end of the lane? 

Have I been guilty of inhuman deeds 
Scattered broadcast vile, discordant seeds 
Or have I prayed for others the same 
Measure of gladness I sought to claim? 

What will my yield be of brawn or brain 
When I have reached the end of the lane? 

Will nations look on me as a man 
Who tried to live by high Heaven’s plan 
Or will I leave a record of shame 
Noted for nothing worthy of name? 

These pointed queries I must explain 
When I have reached th? end of the lane. 


1916 



COLUMBIA’S MISSION 


63 


COLUMBIA’S MISSION 

I dreamed a dream the other night 
When all the world was still; 

I thought I saw a mellow light 
Upon a lofty hill. 

And from the light in beauty shone 
A name for all mankind— 

A beacon for the world I own 
To bring it peace of mind. 

I cried in ecstacy of bliss, 

“Thank God for this sweet day; 

When Freedom gives the world a kiss 
And drives all blight away!” 

For by the light an endless throng 
Were marching in the glow 

With banners gay, each sang a song 
As onward swept the flow. 

Of all the mighty hosts of earth, 

Who came in full review, 

Each one was void of sorrow’s dearth 
So charming was the view. 

And then her name rose in the gleam 
Above her splendid form, 

With dewdrops sparkling in the beam 
To lend a greater charm. 

Columbia’s name and presence gave 
A touch of perfect joy; 

For all on earth were hers to save 
And in her dear employ. 

The song which rang upon the breeze 
Was of her mission fair; 

Which sent her love o’er all the seas 
For each to have a share. 



64 


JUSTICE 


JUSTICE 

When each frail being sails his bark 
With justice on the deck; 

Then none may ever disembark 
And leave a moral wreck. 

Sweet equity cannot arise 
On vile dishonor’s field ; 

Wrong seed, if sown in paradise, 

Would bring a direful yield. 

Plain justice is but reason shown 
With all its lovely charm; 

Where fairness dwells on motive’s lawn 
It gives no thought of harm. 

She holds the scale in equipoise, 

Where swings the perfect beam, 

And does the thing which ne’er annoys 
Nor heeds the whim or dream. 

Our nations are plain mortals bound 
Within a certain line; 

Whose acts in ruling should abound 
With equity divine. 

Upon the same vast lawful plain 
Each citizen should stand; 

For such a state will sail the main 
Forever proud and grand. 

The land which plies the bully’s rage 
And grows by grasping might; 

Will rue a dark decadent age 
And fall ’mid sorrow’s blight. 

And in the crash, while tumbling down, 

A dreadful toll will fall; 

And all who skulk beneath her frown 
May meet a doleful pall. 



JUSTICE 65 


When men forget another’s right, 

And throw all justice down, 

The act reverts to dim the sight 
And sear the conscience brown. 

And he who burns his conscience here, 
With deeds we know are wrong, 

Will miss the soft voice ringing clear, 
That sings life’s mellow song. 

They miss the glow from Heaven’s gate 
Which lend the eden-bliss ; 

Though they may tarry, yet vile hate, 
Will give the venom-kiss. 

And where sweet joy should ripple on 
Like water in the stream, 

The murk will ever rise anon 
To stay each hope and dream. 

The man who walks in envy’s shoes, 

And seeks to drag men down; 

Will sip the bitter where he goes 
And miss life’s happy crown; 

That crown which comes to each dear soul 
When we of worth may prove 

Will always ask to write the scroll 
Which earns a brother’s love; 

That love avoids deeds that are wrong 
It bears a loyal tongue; 

It greets you through the whole life long 
And keeps life’s flowers young; 

All those who grow the blooming vine, 
Which bears rich fruit for all, 

Will tread where blossoms entertwine 
And fragrant petals fall. 

O’er all the brilliant scenes of life 
There is a gentle mien; 

Which scatter blooms devoid of strife 
And makes the glad serene. 



66 


JUSTICE 


Such blow arrays the joyous road 
That leads to worlds above; 

They free us from the hatred load 
And lend us fondest love. 

A just soft answer tames the soul 
Though rage has struck its spark; 

Like lightning when the thunders roll 
Has lost all but the hark. 

In all the shifting scenes of time 
Sweet justice notes the change 

And makes aright in every clime 
All acts that might derange. 

She dwells where gold doth much abound 
And silver fills the stone; 

She flays where sloth germs fall around 
Each living moral drone. 

She sows where nature tills the ground, 
And sprouts the tender stalk, 

Which ripen on each dale and mound 
Where light beams softly walk. 

She reaps her harvest in the fall 
And gathers in the grain; 

All hail her satisfying call 
And welcome her refrain. 

She trades within the goodly marts 
Where worth meets every need; 

Which gratifies the longing hearts 
Who sip her honey-meed. 

She courts where virtue fills the soul 
With its enchanting spell, 

That feels, when wedding marches roll, 
The joys no tongue can tell; 

That glee which fills extended space 
Is wafted on each breeze, 

It sings for every tongue and race 
On all the lands and seas. 



JUSTICE 


67 


It sighs amid the lofty pines 
And meets the ocean’s wave, 

It sounds along the river lines 
Whose vespers make us crave. 

All honey-dews spill o’er life’s brim 
And fleetly pass away; 

Like rainbows peeping through the dim 
They glint then all decay. 

The sombre tomb receives its due 
Which moulders back to dust; 

The spirit gets another view 
When numbered with the just. 

Thus justice is a solemn thing 
For man to dwell upon; 

It tolls the bell that soon will ring 
For each and every one. 

For all must stand within her light 
And heed her gentle touch; 

Or feel her strength with much affright 
When we fall in her clutch; 

The conscience holds this priceless gem 
Which none may e’er despoil 

And then regain the fair emblem 
Without much painful toil. 

Should any being throw it down 
While on earth’s sacred sod 

And then receive the future crown 
Without the chast’ning rod? 

Why should not justice fill our urn 
No matter who we be; 

Though in death’s crucible we burn 
To make the spirit free? 

No stint doth mark creation’s plan, 

In justice all is laid; 

It dwells for each great race and clan 
That ever shall be made. 



68 


JUSTICE 


And not a ray or shade may move 
Beyond her well-built lines; 

Each thing Jehovah’s will must prove 
Without caprice or whines. 

The light of Heaven shines for all; 
The earth we each may share; 

Fresh drops of liquid kindly fall 
To cool the parching air. 

On that vast stream where nature flows, 
Between the banks of time, 

The just waves lash each way it goes 
And cleanses all from crime. 

For sinning souls can never dwell 
Where justice meets the law, 

Within its light no tongue may tell 
It holds a single flaw. 

Much like the glow of early morn 
Which glorifies the sun, 

Plain justice always will adorn 
The deeds of every one. 

Nor is she blind; as some have taught, 
But keen to see the truth; 

And fleet as reason’s active thought 
She guards both age and youth. 

She stands upon the temples here; 

She tames the raging storm; 

She lights the way that all may cheer 
The beauty in her form. 

Then when we fly to worlds unknown 
She meets us on the way, 

And decks the crown that we may own 
Through that eternal day. 

Her glory is the will of God 
Which pours from Heaven’s brink 

Upon the way that men have trod 
Or where they strive to think. 




T HE aviation age is here, 

When like a mighty bird, 

Man sails the boundless atmosphere 
As all have seen or heard. 

Eike Angels of the Eiving God 
Soar round the sacred throne, 

So man flies where no foot hath trod 
High in the pathless zone. 

In flights that glorify the thing 
Like eagles cleave the breeze, 

The aviators ply the wing 
With grace and perfect ease. 

Above the clouds whence thunders hark 
'O’er land or bounding sea 
These brave machinists ape the lark 
Where all may plainly see. 

The ox-cart had its wonder age 
For man to haul his grain, 

But now the same inventive sage 
Doth use the palace train. 


The horse and wagon had their place, 
With carriages between, 

But still creation kept apace 
Till auto steeds were seen. 

The gaily boat, the white-winged ship 
Once had their day and turn; 

But now the steamers fleetly clip 
The billows from a-stern. 

O’er all, however, shall arise 
The huge airship some day, 

To trail the regions of the skies 
For freight, for mail, for play. 

Advancement’s footprints we retrace, 
In every useful line, 

To the initiative place 
Made by the Great Divine. 

All principles have ever been 
And shall forever be; 

Thus our creative future kin 
Shall learn while ages flee. 



7E=r 























70 


ONWARD TO EARTH’S ARMY 


ONWARD TO EARTH’S ARMY 

Let us listen to the music 

That is borne upon the breeze; 

From the fair Celestial Haven 
In the ever-living seas; 

Let us set our sails to windward 

Sweeping toward that Golden Shore, 

Where we’ll sing the songs of gladness 
With the Angels evermore. 

Then forward all ye legions 

Of our Captain’s holy cause; 

’Neath the Banner of our Saviour, 

May it wave above us all; 

When we reach that Sacred Altar 

Set before the snow-white Throne, 

May the Judge of all the ages 

Claim each soldier as His own. 

When we reach that restful Haven 
We shall be forever blest; 

By the Holy One of Zion 

Whom we’ll praise with fervent zest; 

We shall stroll beside the river 

Flowing through the fields so wide; 

From the high supernal Mountains 
Rippling toward the Haven’s tide. 

May we hope that all earth’s billions 
Will embark upon this sail; 

May we join in one great chorus 
That will banish ev’ry wail; 

May we join in one grand army 

Marching through the golden street; 

Leading from the peaceful Haven 
To our Father’s mercy seat. 


20782 



* 


N> 

















iUmSmSi few® 

■■PHEXwMaH 


































